THE N W YORKER to either of the Coffee Houses. Here you vvill find budding politicians or scholars calmly but passionately discussing the evils of the World and you vvill find your problem solved in no time.... But if you. . . crave for maj estic isolated trav- el-hail one of our Ricksha\vs-still dravvn by your fellovv brother \vho \vill run for Your Majesty at the risk of their lives and neither your pity nor your vvrath vvill help theln if you just do not like to avail yourself of their services. . . . The Chovvringhee and Central Avenue Dalhousie area vvill cater to your needs, if you can pay for it. . . . A large number of Restaurants of the Park Street vvill be at your service vvith dinner, dance and \vha tnot. . . . Yes-Yes-We knovv. You find Gar- bages heaped in streets, Taxi-vvallas evading your calls, vvater supply not ade- quate, hazards of using a public convey- ance, etc., etc. But let us have our say. Our per capita income is Rs. 19.58 [19 rupees and 58 pices 1 <lnd not Rs. 53.43 as in Bombay or else\vhere. . . . We have to look after a vast number of refugees vvho are yet to find their \vay tovvards a means of liveli- hood. You ask, vvhy cannot vve increase the per capita income if Bombay can do so ? Well, vvell-vvhy do vve grovv Jute to earn foreign exchange for India vvhen vve can gro\\? paddy to feed our people? Why do vve pay most of Income Tax, vvhich is distributed to other provinces to meet their needs? Man) such questions can be asked, but vvho is going to answer them? The truncated Bengal is novv Calcutta. Here come people from al1 other prov- inces, form their ovvn communities, live in peace vvith Bengalees, earn for their families, and send their edrnings to their native provinces. We cannot tax them. . . . You live vvith us and probably prefer to share our comparatively cheap living, dnd vve prefer to live moderately so that vve may yet exist as Bengalees. Cities other than Calcutta are cosmopolitan, but Cal- cutta still remains a city of Bengalees. . . . Don't tell us about our failings and shortcomings. We knovv it all and we are being reminded of it daily. If you find anything good, tell others. Live "vith us in peace and come again if you leave the city. You are vvelcome. T HIS morning, I go, by prearrange- ment, to Rakhal Das Addy Road and to the offices of Sanat Kumar Ad- dy, a landlord whose holdings include busti properties-the Shatubabu Busti and 90 and 110 Linton Street Busti among them-and also houses in other parts of Calcutta and an entire bazaar. Rakhal Das .i\.dd y Road is some dis- tance from Chowringhi, in a poorish neighborhood. Tlus road, like most roads in Calcutta, is narrow, but, un- like most, it is relatively quiet. The office , a couple of rooms that occupy the ground floor of a two-story struc- ture, are indIstInguishable from those of any other traditional Indian business establishmen t. There is one long main room with shelves and steel cupboards along the walls, all crammed with . ' - hYtí rn , · --' .. . VI- ' ledgers done up in jute sacking In the back of the room is a platform about a foot high covered with a clean white cotton cloth, on which, barefoot, a half-dozen bespectacled babus weal- ing white kurtas and dhotis sit cross- legged, ponng over more ledgers. In the front of the room is a long table, around which the seths, or rich men, of the business, also in kurtas and dho- tis, sit in chairs, conferring. A brand- new pack of cigarettes and a brand- new box of matches, which are set out on a little white tin plate in the center of the table, are the only touches of lTIodernity in the musty office. As is the custom in such establishments, no gen- eral introductions are made, but ï chair is brought up and placed for me beside Addy, who is an elderly man with a weasellike face and a circuln- spect air. Behind rimless glasses, his eyes are friendly, and when he smiles he reveals a few chipped teeth. I ask Addy ho\v he got into the real- estate business. "The business was started by my f'l t r Þ \ " J "- ^ \ I i " :- ,.. 1 .- : J i z-."'" 'V o/Õ'.,:- .,.;, 49 grandfathel," he says. "The house I live in was built by my grandfather. I live there with my relatives-we a11 live in the same house as a joint fam- ily, and they are co-owners of the Cal- cutta properties. The house has seven- teen or eighteen rooms. We once had a rice husiness, hut the government h(;Ls taken away our rice fields, dnd now our Calcutta properties are our only f . " source 0 income. I ask him if he inspects his properties in the bustis. " w h d . d " I " I e are an Icappe, 1e says. n practice, we have no status as landlords in the bustzs. \\1 e are only de-facto landlol ds, with no power to act. Since 1937, the courts have administered our busti properties through a receiver. It's up to the courts to make any Improve- men ts, and even the courts can't do anything unless the tenant pays a reasonable an10unt of rent." Very milky tea is now served in tea- cups, with a couple of biscuits on each saucer, and over the tea I learn that the receiver, Niha Ranjan Ghosh, is at the r l'< 1)' .'; iv _ f(,,; : L '" .. " .,"^' .'........ 1.1L - f t \ r-' """" - 4 ,6 .",. Þf ..... " , .. -- .t ",. ..' t 1 t ". . - .......,: --- "- '^'i' t 'i.' . . " . ' . ' . ""' ..",,' ,. .1 n:::: . -:1- . -..... - ':> ((. . . and you can wake to either AM or FM sounds. In addition there's this little red bulb, which, in the event of a transportation tieup or national catastrophe, will light up, indicating that getting out of bed tS unnecessary."